John McCullagh June 21, 2005
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‘In one of his ancestor’s rooms

Young Charles now sits alone

Without a spot, save those old walls,

He now can call his own:

His face is pale, his eyes are sunk

And cold and sad his heart.

Ah! had he never met his maid

They’d never have to part.

 

A demon of the Saxon type

The grabber of his land

Steps in and hears the youth’s sad tale

He soon his ruin planned.

He brought the stricken youth away

To where the mountains meet

‘You’re vow to her you’ll here fulfil

Just stand beside my feet’.


 

‘Bring your fair lady to this spot,

Be sure and mark the ground

Tell her this is a mountain top

Then bid her look around

Tell her I gave thee all this land

As far as the eye can see

But mark this spot, don’t let her move

Then from your vow you’re free.’

 

Too much! Too much! His brain is turned

He views the Saxon face

But in his rival’s horrid looks

No pity can he trace.

‘I’ll bring her here, I’ll bring her here

He cried, half-wild with joy

Then oh! this promise and this vow

No more my brain annoy.

 

‘The heartless villain smiled a smile

Of scorn, of hate, of pride

‘Ah, fool’, thought he, ‘I’ve sold thee well

She soon will be my bride’.

If this be Christian charity

Or Saxon chivalry

Don’t taint this land of saintly souls

Foul friend, away, away!

 

‘Tis morning and the lovely maid

Sits plaiting sweet wild flowers

She gathers them on Bavan Hills

And Aghameen’s sunny bowers.

Ah lovely maid so innocent

Thy fatal hour draws nigh

Thy hopes are past, God has a crown

Of flowers for thee on High.

 

Young Charles enters, wild with joy

And clasps her to his breast

‘Ah, all is yours, I promised, love

We’re both forever blest’.

His face is flushed, his eyes are wet

His actions very strange

She thinks the thoughts of coming bliss

Has caused the sudden change.

 

Oh Charles say those lands are mine

Where those sweet flowers grow

To deck the pleasant mountain tops

The mossy banks below.

Yon lovely valley and the wood

The lake so calm and still

If all are mine, ah! how I’ll love

My home on Glenmore hill!’

 

‘Yes, come love, come’, he cried aloud

I’ll show thee all that’s yours

My new-found friend gave all to me

The mountains and the moors.’

They go across the hills, the dew

Is shining on the grass

He brings her to the fatal spot

Within the mountain pass.

 

The rival stand upon a cliff

To see the lovers part:

He made the arrow and the bow

To fire the poisoned dart:

With eagle eyes he sees them stand

Upon the well-marked sod

He’s proud of doing Satan’s work

Forgetful of his God.

 

‘The manic turns with glassy eyes

And bids her look around

‘Love, all you see is mine – is yours’

The rocks send back the sound!

She joined her hands and raised her eyes

She sees the rocks o’erhead –

She turned around and, with a shriek

Beside his feet – fell DEAD.

 

 one more episode to go !

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